


War Weary

by thewolvesintherain



Series: I am one of the five people who enjoyed the 2016 Ben-Hur Remake... [2]
Category: Ben-Hur (2016)
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvesintherain/pseuds/thewolvesintherain
Summary: Massala's soldiering days catch up with him.





	1. Brother Mine

He wakes up to gentle hands on him, and a certain spicy smell that he knows the surgeon by, no matter what country they’re in. The surgeon, at least, realizes that he is awake, and asks, softly, “Do you feel any better now, lad?”

He makes his tongue form words, says, “Dizzy.”

“Mm.” Steady hands run over his neck to his heartbeat, and the man asks, “Have you been sleeping?”

“No’ well.”

“No, I can’t imagine you are. Does your leg hurt?”

He laughs a little, says, “Always. But still not nearly as much as my head.”

The surgeon pauses a moment, asks, “Always? Since it’s happened?”

He nods, then huffs with the pain, says, “I think there’s something - in there? It feels -”

“Wrong?” at Messala’s nod he asks, “Your head hurts you always?”

“Mm. When I’m tired, and bright lights - “ He thinks for a minute, “Loud noises. Heat. I get - dizzy and confused. Sometimes - “ this frightens him most, “It gets dark? In my right eye? The pain is the worst then.”

The doctor nods and begins to stand up, but waits patiently as he catches the man’s hand, says, “Don’t - don’t tell my brother - don’t tell him how badly - it will just upset him.”

The doctor says nothing at all for a long few minutes, busying himself with something on the table, before he turns back to Messala, holding a cup in his hand, lifting his head, telling him, “This will make you sleep. No dreams. I’ll come back in a few days to look at your leg, and see what can be done, all right?”

He drinks obediently, murmuring, “All right.” when the man lays his head back down, and tells him, “Sleep.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once his patient is asleep he turns back to his brother, who looks stricken and pale against the lamp lit wall. He motions towards the door with his head, moving to douse the lamp when the other man shakes his head and tells him, “Leave it. He’ll be frightened otherwise - when he wakes.”

“He should sleep well into tomorrow now.” but he leaves the lamp, moving out into the hallway to look at Judah and tell him, “He’s not well, may not ever be well - “

Judah just shakes his head, tells the man, “He can have the best of care now - comfort as well - if he cannot be completely healed I would at least want him to be taken care of.”

The physician nods, tells him, “I do not doubt that the leg needs to be reopened, especially as much as it bothers him when it’s cold. But I’d rather wait and let him get a little bit stronger before I really do anything invasive.”

Judah nods, and lets the man continue, saying, “Now as for his head - that’s not such an easy fix I’m afraid. He needs rest and quiet - as much as he can - and he needs to lie still. Injuries to the head like that - they heal on their own time. We'll have to see what sort of improvement we see over time."

Judah nods and the doctor tells him, "I'm leaving him something for the pain he's been in. The medication will make him sleepy, and perhaps a little confused - don't leave him alone until we wean him off. I want him to eat a little better, if you can get him to, warm mash if he won't take anything else. And some broth - or soup. He needs more meat and some red wine in small doses, but anything he'll take is fine. He needs to gain at least a little weight before we even begin to discuss surgery."

Judah nods, taking the dosage instructions for the medications, agrees when the surgeon says, "Don't let him decide how much to take - at least not for now. It's better to get him comfortable and then adjust down from there. I want him resting."

He nods again, asks, "He'll sleep tonight through?" and the doctor nods, tells him, "And it would not surprise me if he sleeps most of tomorrow as well. The pain is what keeps him awake - "

Judah nods, and then is surprised when the surgeon says, "Sleep in your own bed tonight my lord and leave you brothers' man with him overnight. You need almost as much sleep as he does, it seems, and your exhaustion won't help him to feel any better."

He obeys the surgeon, sleeping well and deeply for the first time in weeks. Once daylight breaks he relieves Kharyi - sends the man to his own bed, and has his papers brought from his study to his brother's chambers, along with a writing desk. The day passes slowly enough, and Massi's deep, even breathing is almost enough to lull him into a trance himself. The surgeon had left instructions to dose him as soon as he woke, then every six hours after that, until he returned, three days at least. Judah couldn't help but feel an idiot as he looked at his brother's body, limbs loose and lax with the absence of pain. He'd thought that Messala had been fine, had been well, until very recently, in Rome. It was why he'd pressed so hard to have them settled and comfortable for the winter, why he'd worked so hard to get his brother to talk to him - to tell him when he was unwell, to not be afraid of what people would think, or say - he'd been preparing for this, he supposed - but not to this level.

Esther had said very little about the entire affair, other than "Poor man." and she'd taken the surgeon's instructions to heart, her and the cook both, getting a thick juicy marrow bone from the market and boiling down with chunks of chicken and vegetables to make a delicious smelling broth that's making the entire household hungry. Cook won't let anyone else have some, saying that "It's for Master Messala" and that's that. 

Messala sleeps until the sky is beginning to darken before he begins to stir muzzily, turning his head gingerly to look at Judah, who's perched on the bed next to him now, asking, "And how are you feeling?"

He blinks, and Judah is astonished to realize that he's blinking back tears as he says, "I'd hoped - that I'd sleep through - "  
"Massi, you've slept an entire day through." At Messala's surprised look, he asks, "Are you still that tired?"  
Messala hesitates, before finally nodding, murmuring, "I didn't - I didn't want you to find out about it."

Judah just takes his hand gently, tells him, "I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that my brother. " He rubs his brother's knuckles between his thumb and finger, feeling the irregularity where they must have been broken at some time, before saying, "The surgeon says you must do nothing but rest now, you know."  
At his brother's groan, he moves to comfort, telling him, "Just until you are stronger, Massi. Then you may go back to causing as much trouble as you like." 

His brother laughs, but then winces as it brings him pain, and Judah moves to get the medication the doctor had left, supporting Messala's head as he swallows, and asking, "Are you hungry? Esther and Cook have been making your broth all day, and I think you'd best eat some before the rest of us get to it."

Messala laughs at that, before murmuring, "A little maybe. Besides, I need to piss, and I'd rather not have an audience for that."  
Judah takes that as his cue to get his brother something to eat, warning him, "You'd better be in this bed when I come back."

 

Messala is not back in the bed when he comes back, but that is because Kharyi has taken this opportunity to change the bedclothes, a well as his brother's clothing, and Messala is sitting in his smallclothes, wiping the sweat off his skin with a warm rag, a basin beside him. 

Judah had meant to do that, but Kharyi seems to feel as though it's his right to look after his brother too; if the way he helps Messala back into bed after the linens are changed is any indication. Messala, for his part, just murmurs, "Thank you Kharyi", and lets the man fuss over him, before he excuses himself, telling Judah, "I will be back after evening prayers, my lord." 

Judah nods, murmurs, "Of course Kharyi. Thank you." 

Massi leans back against the pillows, murmurs, "You should sleep in your own bed, Kharyi - I don't need - " 

He trails off after he sees the look both Judah and his body man are giving him, taking the spoon Judah offers and eating his soup instead. Kharyi nods says, "That's what I thought my lord." 

Judah can't help but laugh at the sheepish look on his brother's face as he holds the bowl for him, nor the way Messala begins to eat much quicker once he really tastes the broth. There's nothing in it yet, except for a few shreds of chicken so soft they are almost falling apart. Still, it's more than Messala's been eating, so that in itself is a victory in its own right.

Once he has downed most of the bowl Judah helps him drink a long draught of water, before sitting with him quietly as the drugs the physician began to take effect, and his body begins to relax against the pain he's been in since he woke. 

Judah looks sorrowful as he takes his hand again, asking, "Why did you not tell me, Massi, that the pain was this bad?"

He shrugs, softly, murmuring, "It's been bad - been bad for so long, that I've just stopped noticing, I suppose."

He clears his throat, before murmuring, "Besides - all of this fussing - it's more than I deserve." He forges on at the look in his brother's eyes, saying, "You should be with your family Judah - not here with me, too sick to get out of bed."  
Judah sighs, the way he does when he is especially disappointed, and murmurs, "Oh brother mine. You are my family."

Messala opens his mouth to argue, but the drugs make him dizzy, and he closes his eyes again, enjoying the feeling of Judah's hand on his, and says nothing at all as he drifts off to sleep.


	2. A plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plot! Finally! Comments are very welcome, especially comments with ideas!!

They get into the habit of never leaving him alone. Kharyi at night, who never says much of anything when he wakes panting and panicking from dreams, just cleaning him up and giving him water, and sitting at the side of the bed, steady and solid until Massala sleeps again. He tells him one night, that whoever they are, they cannot get by him, and he believes Kharyi, knows the man used to ply another trade before he was made slave - knows that if Kharyi wanted to, he could most likely kill him, even before he was in the state he is now. 

He sleeps more now. He stills wakes more than is healthy, more than the drugs should let him, but the exhaustion is beginning to subside a little bit, leaves him more aware in the afternoons before his strength wanes again and he falls back to sleep with his evening doses.

Judah or Esther sit with him for most of the day. Judah does all the work for their finances, and the estate, as well as the money that Ilderim invests with them, and the cut they receive from the chariot operations. Massala has made Kadim into a winning racer, and though the purses are not nearly as large as they were in Jerusalem, they are still respectable. He often dozes in and out to the sounds of his brother muttering to himself about some sort of tax law that he genuinely doesn't understand a word of. 

If Judah must go to visit someone, or to see to something, (or even just to go outside) as Massala occasionally insists, then Esther sits with him and talks to him as she embroiders, or spins cloth. 

She lets him help her occasionally, to wind the skeins, sitting up on the bed with his hands help up so that she can wrap around them. 

He learns more about the running of a household than he probably ever needed to know, but it's interesting, nonetheless, about how Esther gets most of the servants to agree, and looks after those who are sick or ailing. It's almost what he was doing as a tribune, but much more personal. She tells him some of it, and it's genuinely funny, the things people get up to when they all live in the same house. They're all mostly fond of one another, though, and it's nice, and funny, to hear stories like that. 

She and Cook both spoil him, fussing over him and getting him to tell them about things he likes to eat. The influx of food he'll actually eat means that he's lost some of that skinny look he'd had when they'd first arrived in Carthage, and it makes the surgeon pleased enough with his progress that he starts talking about opening up his leg.

 

 

The day they actually do it, they do so early in the morning. Esther and Tirza scrub the table with salt, and Massala can still smell it, thick and heavy in the back of his throat as Judah helps him lie down on it. He'll have to be conscious, so Judah and Kharyi are going to hold him down, although his brother had argued with the surgeon to give him something for the pain. Argued, in fact, until Massala had said, "Judah, he can't. It's too close to an artery."

The doctor nodded, said, "I don't imagine they gave you anything the last time."

Massala hesitates, tells him, "No. No, they didn't." 

Judah's face is drawn again, and Massala just tells him, "It'll be fine Judah. Do what the man tells you." 

His brother bites back screams while the surgeon makes his cuts, but once the man applies the hot blade of the knife he stops trying to hold them back. All Judah can do is keep the pressure on his brother's shoulders, murmur, "I'm here Massi. I'm here. Breathe. Breathe."

Kharyi is narrating, softly, from the position he has on Massala's legs, and he tells Judah, "You can let him up now." 

The surgeon tells them, "We'll give him the poppies now. I pulled quite a bit out, but I might leave the edges open for a few more days, and make sure that his body doesn't push anything else out." 

Judah nods and takes the poppy paste the man gives him and then takes out the amount he says to, before smearing it on his brother's upper gums. It seems odd to him, but the surgeon assures him that it's the quickest way to get the drug into his brother's system. 

 

Massala wakes up again, later in the day, back in his room, too drugged to really notice the pain, and slow and sleepy with the poppies in his system. Judah is there and helps him drink water, and he smiles at his brother, a little sloppily, but quite content with his lot in life.

Judah laughs at him, tells him, "You, my brother, are out of your mind." and Massala can't argue, instead nods, amiably. 

 

Massala is so drugged, his pupils are pinpricks, and he just nods when Judah laughs at him, says, "I don't have much tolerance for this."  
"No?"

Massala shakes his head, softly, and Judah asks, "Have you had much of it?"  
Massala screws up his face, as though he is thinking, and then whispers, "I was stabbed once. In Macedonia."

Judah makes all the affirmative noises, and Massala continues, says, "After - after I heard you were dead - Drusus gave me some - to calm me down. I was - " he trails off, as though he perhaps was trying to think of something else.

Judah interrupts him instead, softly, asking, "When did you hear that, Massi?"  
Massala informs him, quite happily, "I was waiting for the ship to be decommissioned - " at Judah's puzzled look, he explains, "They sell off the slaves - not - they don't take them to another ship - and I thought - I thought- "

"You thought you would buy me back." 

Massala nods sleepily, and something occurs to Judah, as he asks, "Massi, did you send Mother and Tirza to the caves?"  
He nods again, says, "I had a plan, Judah. Truly I did. But I had to - I had to wait, and make sure that everything lined up - and I thought - you're a strong man - and."

Judah takes his brother's hand, finishes the thought, "You thought that you would buy me back once you could, and then get mother and Tirza."

Massala nods again, happy that his brother seems to understand everything, and Judah smiles at him, tells him, "It was a good plan, Massi. I just ruined it for you, a little, hmm?" 

His brother looks a little confused, and Judah tells him, "Go to sleep, all right? Things will be better when you wake."

His brother obeys him, his breaths soft and even almost immediately. He goes to the hallway, thinking to find Kharyi, but instead runs straight into Tirza, who is standing in the hallway nervously, arms crossed over her chest. She whispers, "How is he?"

Judah tells her, "He's sleeping right now. Will be for a while. The drugs the physician gave him are strong." 

At Tirza's nod, he tells her, "You can go in, you know? He'll be happy to see you, and I do need to see to something." 

She hesitates, before whispering, "He'll be happy? Truly?"

Judah nods, decisively, tells her, "Truly. Try to keep him quiet if he wakes up, hmm? He's been very talkative lately. But other than that, he should be fine -" 

She nods, determinedly, before walking into Massala's room softly and taking one of his hands. He was not quite as asleep as Judah had thought, and he smiles at her, dozily, before closing his eyes again. 

 

He tells his mother everything, then leaves her, sitting stunned, at her dressing table, nodding when she tells him she needs a few moments. Once that is done he goes to his wife and spends several long minutes curled up with his head in her lap, weeping bitterly. Esther strokes his hair, and speaks softly to him, and tells him that everything will work out. His wife was right the last time after all, so he can't really argue with her. 

He ends up falling asleep, wakes to a silent upper section, and voices rising and falling in the main salon downstairs. 

Esther and his mother are having a conversation about Massala. Or, more correctly, his mother is having a conversation about Massala and Esther is nodding along, gently, letting his mother talk without interrupting her. 

His mother is murmuring, softly, "I've been so cold with him." And Esther is saying gentle things about just having faith, none of which Judah can argue with either, and Naomi is whispering back, "How can I ever expect - "

He leaves them to it, and goes to look in on Massala, but finds that his brother is being kept quiet and amused by Tirza, who's reading one of his books out loud to him, in a soft, even voice, all while keeping his hand enveloped in one of hers. 

He hasn't seen either one of them so settled since they'd left Jerusalem, and he backs out of the door softly, leaving them to their time alone.


	3. Warm and Quiet

Messala heals slowly. 

Time seems to pass in a haze after he has the operation. The pain in his leg is very great, but at the same time, there's a sense of rightness about it now, like whatever had been in it is gone. He's drowsy and out of sorts most of the time, but his family is gentle with him and patient even when he is fractious and difficult. It is frightening to be so vulnerable.

Even so, he doesn't even argue with the surgeon's proclamations that, "He must be kept warm, and quiet for the love of the gods, else that head of his will never mend." 

That seems to be the entire families goal that winter, along with Kharyi. Messala is cosseted and coddled almost more than he knows what to do with. Tirza keeps making him shirts, and Esther comes back with all sorts of things for him to try when she goes out to market. He is hardly allowed to do anything for himself, and he just lets his family – and how strange that word is, he hasn't felt a part of the family since father died - take care of him. 

Jeruh Ben-Hur had loved him, he knows that, had repeated it to himself often enough when he felt out of place and unwanted later. 

And Judah loved him, that his faithful big brother had proven beyond doubt, but the rest he is unsure about. He can't help but be wary of Naomi always - but even Esther sometimes. Tirza is the exception to this, as she was creeping slowly but steadily into Massala's trust. She is always patient with him, and kind, and never seems upset when he closes himself off or reacts to something badly. 

The first time he has a dream of the war he makes her leave, makes her go get Kharyi, or Judah and weathers his shaking and trembling alone. After the fourth or fifth time, though, he cannot find the strength to argue with her when she makes him sit in the chair by the doorway to calm and feel the breeze on his face and changes the linens herself before getting him something hot to drink, and toweling his hair off for him. 

He should not let her fuss over him so much, but he cannot help it, craves kindness like a starving man - drinks up all the love they offer him greedily. His strength comes back to him, and he is in less pain, and he finally, finally, begins to feel a whole man again - like his brother was not wrong to save him from that floor in Jerusalem.

It turns out in rains in Carthage in the Winter, and Messala spends a lot of his time that he's not flat in bed sprawled out on the daybed in the balcony, under a sturdy cover, watching it flood the streets and wash everything clean again. It's a dreary, sleepy season, and he does indeed spend most of it asleep, quiet and calmed by the sound of the people around him, just to be near him, just in case he needs anything. 

Three weeks after the operation his head begins to heal, the headaches fade off, and his moments of confusion get fewer and fewer, and easy to deal with. The dizzy spells seem to be here to stay, but that's not so bad. If he's sitting he just closes his eyes, and if he's standing he just grabs onto Kharyi or Judah and they stay still until it passes for him. 

He begins reading again as they approach the end of the year, the first day that he can do so almost makes him weep with joy. Judah takes his new interest in reading as an opportunity to try to instruct him in the fine art of finance and doesn't believe him when he tries to fake a headache.  
(Apparently he makes a very specific face when he gets a bad headache, and his family always seems to take that as their cue to get him drugged and horizontal very quickly.) 

 

The next time the surgeon comes and sees him sitting up in bed, leaned against a wall and throwing grapes into Judah's mouth every time his brother tries to tell him about the new tax law, he says he is well enough to be up and about, for at least a few hours of the day. 

 

Messala runs with that. He begins to wander about the house, where there are plenty of walls, and places for him to sit down if he needs them. He will spend hours in the kitchen with Esther and Tirza, shelling chick peas or pitting olives. Cook teaches him to bake, both the soft bread he likes so much and the unleavened bread that they eat when Passover comes and the house must be kosher. It's easier to eat things that he had a hand in making, and he starts to gain back weight and muscle, his frame filling back out to his pre-army days. 

His old sergeants would tell him he's getting fat and lazy, but Esther had found him too skinny even once he came back to Jerusalem with Pilot. His energy comes back with the food, and he's honestly beginning to improve, though perhaps not as much or as quickly as he likes to tell Kharyi. The man seems to be more than a little skeptical of his sudden good health, but he trails along behind him patiently as he stumbles his way along to wellness. He gets very good with the crutch, and soon he can walk well enough, though not long distances or stairs unassisted. If he gets dizzy he must have something else to brace himself on, and Judah won't let him go farther than the courtyard without him until the dizzy spells have subsided enough for Messala to not be having a few in a day. 

He'd like to argue with his brother, like to rail and tell him he's being unreasonable, but he still spends hours of the day sleeping out in the courtyard, or reading quietly while his brother writes, so he cannot say much at all, other than try to describe how mad he is going inside four rooms and a courtyard every day. Judah gets to go places, and see other people, and Messala is stuck here, with the same books and routines and activities, down to the bread he makes for lunch every day.

 

Tirza is the one who finally tells Judah that she's taking him out, drags him out to the litter, nods amiably when he asks for Kharyi to come too. They set out for nowhere in particular, but she takes him to the market, and they buy dates and olives. She makes him take rests in between visiting vendors, and he doesn't mind as much as he perhaps pretends too. They sit on the edge of one of the walls and dangle their feet over the edge, and it's enough of an outing to keep him from going mad, but not too much to give him a headache. 

He starts trailing along behind Esther in the market, with Kharyi too, and between the two of them, and the dark looks they give all the men who are perhaps too familiar with her, she begins to complain to them that no one even wants to haggle with her anymore.  
"They just tell me, 'Of course Lady Ben-Hur, whatever you think is best.'"  
She is glaring at him, and he ducks his head, remembering what Judah had told him about women, "They're never wrong brother mine. They might not be right, but they're never wrong."  
But he doesn't understand this one, so he ventures, "They should give you the best price, though."  
"Messala! It's about the conversation. How I make sure I like the prices, and that I'm getting the good vegetables."  
He raises his head at that, enough to ask her, "Are they giving you old vegetables?" Cook has opinions about the vegetables, and it wouldn't do to upset cook.  
She sighs quietly, before murmuring, "Right." and seizing his hand, tugging him along behind her gently, with more than enough time to correct for his leg.  
"Husband." she calls, coming into the hall, "Your brother is going to the booksellers with you this afternoon!"  
She deposits him gently in Judah's study, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head that he doesn't know what to do with, and asking, "You'll take Kharyi though?"  
Esther smiles at him patiently, tells him, "Yes, Messala, I will take Kharyi with me." 

Judah takes the long way around to the booksellers, and he lets Messala linger in the sunshine in the outside courtyard before herding him in with him, telling him, "There must be something they have here that will catch your interest, brother."  
The proprietor greets Judah enthusiastically when they walk in the door, and he flutters about them both, asking, "Who is this now?"  
Judah introduces him, "My little brother, Messala."  
"Ah, the one that has been so ill." He claps Messala's hand gently, tells him, "I have prayed for your health, my lord. It is good to see you up and about."  
He ducks his head a little, touched by the man's goodwill, and manages to murmur an awkward thanks before Judah sends him off to look at the history books, and the mathematics, tells him, "He has a ridiculous amount of philosophy Massala, and no one to appreciate them in me."  
He does find a few things, and Judah stops to get them pomegranates from the stall down the street. They eat them sitting on the front steps, juice running down their hands and chins. It is the first time in a long time that he remembers being clearly happy, and he smiles at his brother when Judah nudges him with his shoulder, telling him, "You look well today, brother mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be continuing this series, but I wanted to make sure that I finished this before NaNoWriMo starts on Tuesday. Hopefully I'll have a new installment soon, since this is one of my big NaNo goals. Happy Friday guys!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pure h/c brotherly bonding fluff, and I have no shame about it. 
> 
> A few notes on the text:
> 
> Messala's leg is based a little bit on the injury Channing Tatum's character, Marcus sustains in the movie (and novel) The Eagle of the Ninth, which I wholeheartedly recommend, along with the author's other books. It's more than a little referential, but nothing looks sanitary there, and I'm going to run with it.
> 
> Messala is describing the symptoms of TBI or a bad concussion, and the blindness in one eye is in reference to an ocular migraine, which I have not experienced to that extent, but have had floaties/weird vision symptoms. 
> 
> Massi is a nickname I came up with because apparently, the Romans used to have three names? One from the family, one "first" name, and then one familiar name since apparently there were only like five first names the Romans used. They don't give Messala a third name, so I gave him a nickname because massala is something you make with chicken. In my headcanon, Judah gave Messala the name when they were children.
> 
> Massala is also how I thought his name was spelled, so apologies for a) the spelling difference between the names, and b) if I somehow left a chicken dish in the story as the main character's name. My bad. 
> 
> Also, I totally headcanon Judah as the older brother.


End file.
